


Never gone

by Elisexyz



Series: Mental Health Whump Timeless Challenge [8]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Christmas Isn't Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Future Fic, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-02-27 20:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18746158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: A long time ago, Lucy decided that she would never be the kind of parent to yell at her child.She slips.





	Never gone

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the prompt "Photographs" in the [Mental Health Whump Challenge by newisalwaysbetter](https://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/184648324764/mental-health-whump). I have given up on trying to post on the right days LOL.  
>    
>  This is set in the same verse as another fic I wrote about Lucy, Flynn and their twin girls, but it can be read as a stand-alone.

Lucy doesn’t yell.

She made a conscious decision, a long time ago, not to be the kind of parent who yells to silence their child. She told herself that there would be no belittling, no raising her voice, that she’d always listen and answer her daughters’ questions instead of refraining to ‘That’s how it is because I say so’.

Not yelling comes natural enough to her anyway.

Sisters fight. That’s in the natural order of things, especially as they start heading towards those _wonderful_ teenage years that are going to be such a pain in her ass.

Most days, Lucy manages to tune out the bickering or the screaming, depending on the fight, and she only intervenes when there’s blood being spilled. They can’t seem to get along for more than ten minutes straight: Maria is, and she says it with all the affection in the world, a big pain in the ass, pocking her sister all the time but in ways that are often subtle enough not to get her into trouble; Amy, on the other hand, has a big mouth that she likes to run at every turn.

If Maria did something deliberately to piss her sister off, everyone in the house will _know_ , mostly because of the name-calling – as much as creative, because they aren’t really allowed swear words, not when their parents are within earshot at least; Lucy’s personal favourite of the week is ‘you giant stinky piece of broccoli’.

If Amy is pissed off at the world, she will pick fights, and, once again, everyone will _know_.

She’s just a very _loud_ kid.

So, really, it isn’t surprising that there is what you’d think is the end of the world unfolding before her, as Lucy stoically tries to fold all the laundry and pretends to show interest like they _aren’t_ going to solve this without her getting involved – and by ‘solving’ she means storming off to opposite sides of the house and not talk to each for a while, until one will go to the other to show her something on her phone like nothing happened, at most muttering a ‘Come _on_ , you aren’t still mad, are you?’.

She isn’t even sure what they are fighting about, this time.

What she does know is that Amy’s cheeks are burning red, and that she looks like she’s about to burst when she finally yells: “I wish you were never _born_!”

For a moment, Lucy just _blinks_ at them, frozen in place. Then, anger washes over her all at once, and before she knows it she has opened her mouth and her voice is increasing in volume with every word.

“That’s an horrible thing to say!” she thunders, blood rushing to her face and ears and her heart trying to jump out of her chest.

There are tears on both of her daughters’ faces, because they often get teary when they fight, and Amy turns to her with a look of bafflement and hurt on her face. “But _she_ —”

“I don’t _care_!” Lucy yells, loud enough to silence her and to make her take half a step back. “Apologize!” Lucy orders then, every muscle in her body tense in anger. “Right _now_!”

“I—” Amy stammers, more and more tears building up in her eyes. “Sorry,” she finally mutters, tears falling as she blinks and turns away, shooting one last wounded look Lucy’s way.

That seems to bring Lucy back to reality, just long enough to realize what she just did and how much harder Amy is crying and how scared Maria looks of her right now, before the door opens and Garcia, with his impeccable timing, announces that he’s home.

Amy is the first to run in his direction and hide her face in his chest, immediately followed by her sister. They try to elbow each other away, but he manages to steady them both, frowning in confusion.

“Hey, why are there tears everywhere?” he asks, although he doesn’t sound overly concerned. At least, not until he looks up to Lucy and, instead of finding her mild amusement at the millionth squabble of the week, he is only met with an helpless look, as Lucy is on the verge of tears herself.

“I have to put away the laundry,” she ends up saying, avoiding his eyes and quickly turning on her heels to grab everything. She makes a bit of a mess of even the clothes that she had already folded, but the only thing that she cares about is getting up to her bedroom as soon as possible.

She sits on the bed, her breath stuck in her throat and her heart racing, tears pushing behind her eyes but somehow unable to come out.

She can’t stop seeing how _hurt_ Amy was, how betrayed, how frightened Maria looked, like she was expecting Lucy to somehow turn around and start yelling at her too— she never wanted them to be scared of her, this isn’t how she’s supposed to _do_ things.

She just couldn’t help it.

 _I wish you were never born_ — that’s just _not_ something you say to your sister.

Amy doesn’t know what she’s talking about – the irony that _Amy_ was the one saying this is not lost on Lucy, she just doesn’t find it _funny_ –, she doesn’t know what it means to come home and find out that your little sister was never born. She doesn’t understand what she just asked for, she doesn’t even know that it could happen in the first place, and it made Lucy so angry she could hardly see straight.

She couldn’t _think_ , let alone stop herself from following the flow of her anger.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay, okay,” she mutters, swallowing hard and trying to regain some composure.

She’s just going to fold these clothes, put them away, and by then she’ll be calm enough to go downstairs and apologize for yelling, and they can simply not speak of this ever again.

Except her hands keep shaking, and she can’t seem to fold anything right, even less so when everything becomes so _blurry_ —

By the time Garcia comes upstairs, knocking on the doorframe to catch her attention before entering, she’s a crying mess, trying to suffocate her sobs into her open palm.

He closes the door behind him before walking up to her, sitting beside her on the bed and gently pulling her into a hug. She accepts without protest, shifting so that she can more comfortably wrap her hands around his torso and hide in his chest.

He merely sits there, stroking her back and muttering some nonsense in her ear, until her sobs subdue and she manages to take in a breath without a new wave of tears flooding her.

“Are the girls okay?” is the first thing that she manages to get out.

“Oh, yeah,” he shrugs, smiling at her with complicity. “Last I checked, they were giving each other the silent treatment. That generally lasts about five minutes.”

Lucy sniffles, nodding as she goes back to pressing her cheek against his chest. It isn’t exactly what she meant, but if they are being pissy at each other she supposes she hasn’t completely broken them, yet.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Garcia asks, after a few moments of silence go by.

Lucy was almost hoping that they could stay like that forever.

She shrugs. “Didn’t they tell you already?”

“Amy mentioned you yelled at her for being mean to her sister,” he supplies, and Lucy can’t help wincing. “Which we both know isn’t like you. So I thought I’d ask you for the specifics.”

Thinking back to it, to Amy’s words and her own reaction and her daughters’ _faces_ in front of her anger, tears fill her eyes once again, a sob escapes her lips, and before she knows it she’s right back to where she started, although she gets the feeling that Garcia is holding onto her even tighter.

It takes her a while before she can stop crying for more than ten seconds, and then she decides to just get it out while she can.

“She told Maria she wished she was never born,” she gets out, as fast as she can for the fear that she’ll break down crying before she’s done and she’ll have to start again.

“Oh,” Garcia only comments, immediately understanding the problem.

“I just got so—so _angry_ —” Her voice breaks. “I didn’t mean to yell,” she adds, her voice thin, like a plea.

“Hey, I know, I know,” he says, softly. “It’s okay. You made a mistake, you apologize and move on.”

It feels like it’s a lot bigger than a simple mistake.

“But, Lucy,” he adds then, as he gently nudges her into pulling away enough to look at him in the eyes. “I think maybe you should tell them about your sister. They are old enough, and— it’d help them understand.”

She swallows, her eyes burning and an headache building up.

It isn’t that Lucy was trying to erase her sister’s memory or anything, she just— it _hurts_ to talk about. It hurts that, at the end of the day, she couldn’t save her.

And the girls were too little for a story like that anyway – or the version of it that doesn’t include time travel, at least.

But maybe, under the circumstances, and considering that they are almost twelve already— maybe.

“I don’t know,” she gets out. “I—I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

He shrugs. “I’m not saying you _have_ to,” he highlights. “It was just a suggestion. And if you do decide to do it, I’m sure the how will come to you.”

She nods, taking a deep breath and quickly trying to wipe away the tears still on her cheeks, even though she probably looks like too much of a mess for _that_ to be of any use.

“How are you feeling?” he asks then, stroking her arm with his thumb.

“Better,” she smiles, if only slightly. “Thank you.” She isn’t really ready to go back downstairs though, especially when she looks like a mess who stopped crying two minutes ago. “I think I’ll take a shower,” she says then.

He nods. “Yeah, good idea.” He gestures to the mess of clothes on their bed. “I’ll take care of this,” he adds.

She smiles a more decent smile at that, hoping that it will show enough of her gratefulness.

 

 

Dinner is tense.

Lucy is trying her best to be _normal_ , to smile and pretend like nothing happened, because that’s what Amy and Maria seemed to be doing. They are back to talking to each other, and they greeted her when she went back downstairs and arrived just in time to help them set the table.

Except they both keep looking at her like she’s about to explode, Maria mostly staring at her plate and Amy giving her wary looks with the corner of her eye, like she’s expecting her to suddenly try to stab her in the back.

Lucy’s heart breaks a little more with every second.

(That feeling is also what settles her on telling them about her sister.)

 

 

“Can I come in?” Lucy asks, leaning against the doorframe.

Her daughters are sitting on Amy’s bed, their legs crossed as they face each other, and they were whispering conceitedly about something before she appeared.

“Uh, yeah,” Maria says, glancing at her sister for confirmation.

Lucy swallows, smiling slightly as a thank you for the permission, and she goes to sit on Maria’s bed, so that she can face both of them and she doesn’t invade their personal space. They don’t look so wary of her anymore, mostly curious, which is a relief.

“I wanted to apologize,” Lucy explains, and as she says the words a little bit of weight lifts from her chest. “About my yelling, earlier. Especially to you, Amy. I’m sorry.”

“I _was_ being mean,” Amy mutters, shifting uncomfortably on her seat.

“Yes, but that’s no excuse,” Lucy highlights. “I should have reprimanded you without yelling.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “The _reason_ why I got so angry is that— what you said— it struck a cord for me.”

“Why?” Amy asks, and they both look pretty confused.

 _Okay, here it goes_ — “I had a sister,” she gets out, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Her name was Amy.”

Amy’s mouth hangs open at that. “You never told me!” she protests, offended. Maria knew were _her_ name came from already, but it’s easier to explain a dead grandmother than a dead aunt.

“I know,” Lucy says, quietly. “It’s because— talking about her, it— hurts.”

“She died?” Maria asks, bluntly. Amy promptly elbows her, giving her a look of disbelief mixed to reprimand.

The sight makes Lucy smile a little, in spite of everything.

“Yeah,” she confirms. “It was a— an accident.” She pauses. “I miss her _very_ much. She was amazing, I wish— I wish you could have met her.”

“Us too,” Amy smiles at her, then she gets up, as her sister follows suit, and they both walk over to Lucy to wrap her into a double hug. She embraces them back, her throat closing up with how much she _loves_ her wonderful, sweet kids, and for a moment she thinks she might cry again.

“I have a picture, though,” she says instead, and they quickly pull away, curiosity sparkling in their eyes. Lucy gets out that old little picture that kept her going for so long, as a memento of what she’d lost and proof that it was _real_ , that Amy existed, somewhere, that she wasn’t just a figment of her imagination – although, she might as well be, because she’s the only one to have met her; she pushes away the thought.

“Amy, Maria,” she begins, a little chocked up, holding up the picture for them to see, her lips twisting at the sight of Amy’s bright, beautiful smile frozen before her. “Meet my sister, Amy Preston.”

So long as there are people who remember her, who talk about her, Amy will have meant something, even if history has forgotten about her completely. That is the best that Lucy can do for her sister.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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